Revealing Reason
by My Beautiful Ending
Summary: Sequel to Searching for Sanity. A chronicle of events including, but not limited to, Tierney's escape from Arkham along with others of her acquaintance, and what she found in Gotham as her past reared its ugly head. JCXOC, a little bit of HXJ. R&R!
1. Getaway, Funhouse, and Fear Gas

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!  
**

**Recap:** _The Joker put the car into gear and off we roared. Jervis and Edward laughed with the Joker, I'm sure Harley and I had the same shell-shocked expressions, and I had no clue what Jonathan did._

_As we went speeding off into the night, I put my head into my hands. What had I gotten into?_

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**1: Getaway, Funhouse, and Fear Gas**

The Joker was a very fast driver. We careened around street corners, over curbs, and through red lights; I was extremely thankful of Crane's arms around me. Edward, Jervis, and the Joker howled with laughter as we nearly slammed into the side of the highway. Harley alternately clutched her seat and the dashboard with a look of terror on her face. I wasn't in a position to read the speedometer, but I could imagine it was far above the accepted limit. As we roared through an intersection, we caught the notice of a cop car, who expected that? Enter my sarcasm here. Its siren wailed to life as it began to pursue us.

"Hey, what's black and white and full of fuzz?" Edward said between laughs. "A squad car!" They all howled louder. _Why oh why oh why aren't we wearing seatbelts?!?!_

We plowed through a large hedge and a field of mud, which made my head slam into the roof of the car. Evidently the cop car got bogged down in the slough, and gave up the chase. More enthusiastic yells from the men, except Jonathan; I got the impression he found all of this fun, but not the kind of fun that made you whoop and holler.

We drove down a dirt road, finally arriving at our destination. It was an old abandoned fairground, complete with Ferris wheel and carousel. The Clown parked in front of the funhouse and hopped out, going around to the passenger side to yank Harley out. We all piled out soon after. Crane still had a hold on my arm.

"You can let go now," I told him pointedly. He glared at me, but then smiled and dropped my arm. His smile and his eyes put me on the alert –they were dark and malevolent, and something inside of me knew this night wasn't going to end well.

"Everybody inside!" the Joker yelled, dragging Harley along. We all followed him into the funhouse, where we were met by some minions.

"Boss! You got outta Arkham?" The biggest one asked.

"No, Bullet. I'm _a figment_ of your, ah, imagination." The Joker's mouth twisted. "This is the Riddler, Mad Hatter, and Scarecrow. They'll be working with _us_ now." The muscle nodded obediently. "Show 'em around and stuff." The Joker pulled Harley off and disappeared through another door.

"You want rooms?" the muscle asked us. We nodded. "Follow me," he said, walking off.

"Say, what weighs six ounces, sits in a tree, and is very dangerous?" Edward asked all of us.

When no one responded, I said, "No idea Edward."

"A sparrow with a machine gun!" That made me smile a tiny bit. He showed us all rooms on the second floor of the funhouse, and then left. Edward and Jervis disappeared into theirs to sleep, I guess. I stared at Crane, waiting for him to speak. He didn't, so I just said what was on my mind.

"Was it all a lie? The whole 'I need you' thing?" I said softly, crossing my arms over my chest. "Because it sure seems like it." I refused to look at him and instead focused my attention to the door we stood before.

"I didn't lie, I simply didn't tell you the whole truth," he said impassively.

"Oh? It amounts to the same thing. I have _no idea_ why I continue to believe you, you crazy–"

"Would you like to see my mask?" He asked abruptly, cutting me off.

I blinked. "What?"

His ma– …oh. OH! I turned to try to get into my room, but he grabbed my shoulder and twisted me around. His face was covered with a burlap mask, stitched to resemble a face –a scarecrow. I gasped just before receiving a face full of gas.

Choking, coughing… the world began twisting, distorting. _NO NO NO…_

"What do you fear?" he said, voice distorted by what I distantly knew was the fear gas and a re-breather into a growl. I yelped. _What do I fear?_ I began to hyperventilate, taking too many fast, deep breaths. _What do I fear?_ Horse rearing…flames… scarecrow… "the **only** thing you have to fear **is fear ****itself** –nameless, **unreasoning, unjustified**, terror which **paralyzes** needed efforts to **convert retreat** into **advance**." _I fear… fear itself._ I leaned against the wall as the shapes closed in on me. _What do I do, what do I do, whatdoIdo… I need to…_ Advance.

All the fear suddenly got channeled into anger, mind-bending, adrenaline-rushing hate. And the object of my anger was Crane. I launched myself at his throat, tried to choke him, hurt him, kill him, anything. He blocked me well, though, and after a bit, the gas affected my legs and I fell to the floor.

_Child crying… bottles breaking… a woman screaming… blood everywhere… got to stop it… #&%* …NO!!!!_

"Tierney!" the scarecrow called, but my eyes wouldn't focus anymore. Another aerosol canister sprayed its contents into my face, but this wasn't a harsh chemical –it was sweet, like vanilla, or flowers. I breathed deeply, and someone far away encouraged me, saying, "That's it. Good girl." Blackness descended.

I swam back up out of the darkness; I opened my eyes. The ceiling was very far away because I was sitting on the floor. Arms held me still, and my head rested on wool –a sweater vest. I lifted my head and Jonathan looked at me anxiously, his blue eyes bright. Where were his glasses? Oh. They were folded around the neck of his sweater vest. "How long was I out?" I mumbled.

"Only about five minutes," Jonathan said softly.

"You _sprayed _me with your _fear gas_," I hissed at him incredulously. "And now you're acting all concerned about me?" I shoved him away, scrambling away from him and attempting to stand by pushing myself up on the wall.

"Quinzel got nowhere helping you recall your past or get to the bottom of your irrational fury. The toxin brings out the hidden things inside you. But I gave you the antidote when you started to go over the edge," he said, standing as well.

"Let me get this straight," I said, poking a finger in his face, but keeping one hand against the wall to steady myself. "You're saying, spraying me with your toxin, threatening me, and scaring me half to death was really to _help me remember?!"_ My eyes blazed, and my hands began to make fists.

"Yes." I opened my mouth to say something highly insulting and perhaps break his nose, but he said, "It worked, didn't it? You remembered something." I shut my mouth. I had: broken bottles and people screaming… and a large amount of blood. "See?" He said.

I sighed in frustration. "I want to go to sleep." Preferably before my brain exploded because of the confusion I was experiencing.

"Go ahead." He tried to help me through the doorway, but I slapped his hand away and did on my own steam, giving him a death glare. Then he entered his own room. I walked into the small, bare room that had little else except a bed and dresser. Sitting on the bed, I put my head in my hands. _What is with this man?_

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_**Yay! It's up. Sorry it took a while. Hope you liked it, and please review! Everyone clap for Heart of Friendship, my beta, who made this better than it would have been. _:) ~~MBE  
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	2. Purple People Eater

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader! **

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**_2: _Purple People Eater**

Harley was pushed into a room that was almost totally green and purple. It was obviously _his._ She leaned against the wall as the Joker pulled his purple coat off, along with his gloves.

"Why did you bring me?" Harley asked him, half wanting to know, half not.

He kicked his shoes off into a corner of the room and stood there in green socks. "Why?" he raised a painted eyebrow. "_Because._ You were there; you had a car. It worked. I don't _plan,_ doll. I just –_do."_

Well, if he was going to take off his shoes, she was going to take of hers too. Obviously the surrealistic last half hour or so had caught up to her. She pulled off the high heels and dropped them, wiggling her toes in the surprisingly soft and thick purple carpet. "How long do I stay?"

He sat with a thump on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. "How long do you, uh, _want_ to stay?" he smirked.

Harley considered all her answers, and then picked the truest one. "Forever," she whispered, her heart aching, lips trembling. How had this happened? When had she come to the conclusion that she could not live without him? The shock to herself, however, was overwhelmed in the other feelings diffusing through her.

He smiled, scars stretching. "I think we can work something out."

Harley woke up late the next morning, and the place beside her was cold. Stumbling out of the king sized bed, she walked to the attached bathroom and turned the shower up hot. The water blasted her full in the face, waking her up. After the initial shocked gasp, Harley woke up enough to enjoy the bath. But then all the memories of what on earth she was doing in that purple and green room came back.

_Ohhhh…_ What had she gotten herself into? Suddenly she felt lightheaded. She leaned against the shower wall, letting the water stream over her. They were all crooks! Lunatics! She was a psychiatrist, for heaven's sake!

_But I don't regret a bit of it,_ she thought, thinking of the scarred man who had kissed her. _I love him. _And for now that was all that was all she needed to say for guilt to fall away.

When someone knocked on my door, I moaned into the pillow and told them to take a hike. I was warm and comfortable and I had been _sleeping,_ thank you very much; it had been a late night, thanks to _some people,_ and I wanted to stay where I was!

No dice; they kept knocking. "AHH! What?!" I finally yelled, sitting up in bed.

Jonathan poked his head in the door. _Why am I not surprised?_ His dark hair was brushed out of his face and he wasn't wearing his glasses. "Time to get up."

"Last time I checked, I wasn't governed by a bell anymore," I said acidly, raking my fingers through my untidy mop of brown hair. I wasn't going to forgive him right away for last night.

"Nevertheless, it's time," he said with an aggravating smile that looked very strange on him, considering he was usually serious.

I rolled my eyes and chucked my pillow at him. He ducked. "You've got ten minutes," he said, and then shut the door.

I growled under my breath and got up. First I have to get up, next Crane's the chosen drill-sergeant. The morning was looking to be just **_peachy._**

"What's the rush?" I asked him as I followed him down the stairs of the fun house. "I wasn't aware we had a timetable."

"We do now, _Piperrrrr_."

First thought: Your voice is so annoying!

Second thought: Don't _call_ me that!

Third thought (these were rare): How do you know me?!?!?!

I turned slowly, and laid down the ultimatum I had rehearsed in my head to the Joker. "Okay, you can't call me that unless you tell me _how you know me."_

He cackled and said, "Fine, _Tierrrr_ney_._" That wasn't a whole lot better.

Part of the huge room that used to house the fun house had been converted to a kitchen. The hired thugs sat at one of the two tables, Edward, Jervis, and the Joker sat at the other, and _Harley was making coffee._ I tilted my head sideways to get a better view of her. That didn't work, so I leaned my whole body sideways. Yep, she was still making coffee.

I still couldn't figure out what on earth was going on, so I shook my head and sat down with Jonathan at the second table, not that I was very chipper about the idea. The second weird thing I noticed was everyone was reading a newspaper. And not the same newspaper either: the Gotham Times, Gotham Daily, and the Gotham Report. Jonathan did not pick up a newspaper. I silently thanked him for that, and my ire at him lowered a couple notches.

"Do you want coffee?" Harley asked us brightly. Her blond hair was still slightly wet; I guess because most insane criminals don't pack a blow dryer on the off chance that their girlfriends/gun molls would want to use them. I would've bet money that that's what Harley was now. She was very unlike the Dr. Quinzel I had first met in that examining room. Her small smile aimed at the Joker's back reinforced my bet.

"I'm good," I managed to say.

"Please," Jonathan said, running his fingers through his hair. Harley poured him a cup and handed it to him.

I blinked. Was I still dreaming? _I've got to be dreaming; Harley's acting nice._ I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands. If I wasn't dreaming, I wanted to go back to sleep.

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	3. The Penguin

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

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**AN: My beta apologizes immensely for the delay. So do I.**

**3: The Penguin**

"Let's go," The Joker said abruptly, tossing down the paper and grabbing his purple coat. Everyone else stood too.

"Where are we going?" I whispered to Harley. She shrugged happily; she obviously didn't care.

Everyone went, and we all piled into a big white van behind the funhouse. There was a seat for me this time, so I wouldn't have to sit on Jonathan's lap, praise the Lord. That would have been just so much more awkward than it had been the night before. The ride into town wasn't very long; the Joker was still driving the same way he had last night. _Does he even have a driver's license?_ I wondered as I tried to keep from sliding into anyone. The breaks squealed as we stopped in front of a large, ritzy-looking white building. The sign above it said "The Iceberg Lounge." It didn't look open, and I voiced this opinon.

"We aren't going in the front," Edward told me. "There's a warehouse in the back."

"Oh… why?"

"The man who owns it deals under the table in weapons."

_Illegal guns. Oh joy… I should have known. . _I glanced up at the morning sky, squinting as I did so –it looked like rain. _Perfect._ This was a lot more than I had bargained for. "You know… I think I'll go now. Thanks for breaking me out and everything, but I'd like to go find myself now." I started to back away from the little group slowly.

The Joker swiveled and leveled one of the guards' stolen guns at me, and Crane took hold of my arm. "Now, Tierney, you don't wanna go _just_ yet. You'd miss all the, uh, _fun."_ He laughed. "And how are you going to find yourself when your past is _right up there_ in your head? You just can't get to it."

Jonathan whispered in my ear, "Tierney, walking out now would be extremely unwise." A chip of ice was in his blue eyes, chilling me.

"Fine," I muttered, shaking my arm out of his grasp. "Stop grabbing my arm like that." I stalked away from them and followed Jervis into the warehouse. Immediately I noticed a man, standing watching as we entered. Edward instantly walked up to him and began conversing.

First thought: he's got a monocle? That is so cool!

Second thought: I've never seen so many umbrellas in my life!

The whole warehouse was full of umbrellas. And I mean whole, entire, complete, total, and full. The guns were in the basement. The man Edward was talking to was _short –_like less than four feet short, with a really long nose. Another good word to describe him would have been rotund. His tux was immaculate, he smoked a cigarette in one of those long holder things, a monocle sat in one of his eyes, and he leaned on an umbrella.

Edward introduced him. "This is Mr. Oswald Cobblepot." No one asked how he knew this man, and no one from our group introduced them selves. No, instead the Joker launched into a discussion with Mr. Cobblepot as to the price of the guns, which were stored in his warehouse basement.

I thought all of this was extremely boring so I, naturally, went to go look at the umbrellas.

I picked up the standard black model with a rounded handle. Well, sort of. The handle came up in my hand; the actual cloth part of the umbrella stayed in the stand. Attached to the handle was a very long, sharp blade. "What the heck?" I said, interrupting them. "Since when is a fencing foil hidden in an umbrella?"

"Oh, do you like my umbrellas?" Mr. Cobblepot asked me, momentarily pulling his attention away from the Joker.

"Uh… are they all like this?"

"Awk, gracious no. That one over there has a jet pack in it, the lady's parasol has sleeping gas, the child's umbrella contains a miniature flame thrower, and this one contains a hidden camera," he said, motioning toward each umbrella in turn.

"Wow." I stared at the clusters of umbrellas all around me. They suddenly all looked very lethal. "What about the one you're holding?"

"This?" he gestured with it.

"Yes. What does it do?"

"It keeps the rain off!" He chuckled, making awk-awk-awk sounds like a bird.

First thought: …………….

Second thought: is everyone I meet crazy?

"That's nice," I said awkwardly after a minute. I slid the foil back into its umbrella-sheath. They had gone back to bargaining, and I was bored again, not daring to touch any of the other umbrellas.

When they had finished, Mr. Cobblepot waddled over and shook my hand (he seriously waddled!). "I hope to see you again, miss…"

"Ah, Tierney. Tierney Lawson."

"Miss Lawson. Perhaps you'll come to my club sometime; it's quite nice, you know."

"Uh, thank you." What else was I supposed to say?

"Do you skate?"

I turned back to him, "What?" That was a random question. Where had it come from?

"Do you ice skate? I recently had an ice rink installed in my club and…"

I didn't hear the rest. I was falling back into memory again.

_I was moving backward, listening to the swish-swish sound that the blades of my skates made on the ice. The cold made my hands hurt because I had fallen once or twice. My very small boots were white, and I wore a velvet ice-skater's costume. "Very good, dear!" an adult said in praise. "Now, let's try a spin, shall we? One, two, three…"_ And then the memory faded.

"Can I see it?" I said abruptly, ignoring my companions. "Your ice rink?"

"Of course, Miss Lawson. Step this way please." He led the way out of the warehouse and into the back door of "The Iceberg Lounge." Watching him walk, combined with the tux and location, I thought he did a pretty good penguin impression. Upon entering the white building, the cold air hit me right in the face, but I barely flinched. I could see the ice, almost feel it under my feet.

"Can I skate on it?"

"Be my guest." The penguin with the incredibly long nose –or should I call it beak –motioned toward the rack of ice skates.

Dashing over like a roadrunner on steroids, I grabbed a pair of boots my size and quickly laced them up, not caring that the Clown, Edward, Jervis, Jonathan and Harley had followed me in. Walking carefully in the ice skates, I opened the door and stepped out onto the ice. It not only felt right, it felt wonderful. I was free.

I skated around in circles for a minute or two, getting my feet accustomed to the ice and these new boots, and then began to skate backwards, morphing into a spin. After that, I launched myself into the air, doing an axel jump and landing perfectly. I let myself go, muscles performing a duty that my mind had forgotten. The anger and disappointment all drained away, leaving only the sound of my skates scraping on the ice. Classical music segued out of speakers behind me, and I molded my routine to the music. As the song came to a close, I spiraled and ended, posing.

Loud, intrusive clapping broke the dreamlike state I was in. I stared down into black-rimmed eyes that frowned while the red mouth grinned, showing off yellow teeth. "Good girl, _Tierrrrrr_ney. You were always _soooo good_ at skating."

I stalked off the ice and glared into his face. "How do you know me?!"

"Y'know, doll," the Joker said, licking his lips, "That question's gettin' kinda old. Ya might wanna think about askin' something else. Things could go, ah, _bad_ for you."

If only I looks could kill. I sat down on a bench and began unlacing the borrowed boots.

"I thought you looked beautiful," a voice behind me whispered into my ear. I paused for a moment; it was Jonathan.

"Thank you," I finally said, a bit abruptly. He took the boots and hung them back up on the rack. I expressed my thanks to Mr. Cobblepot and walked out the back door. Leaning against the wall of the building, I closed my eyes. Everywhere I went I got little fragments of memory, but none of them were big enough to make anything out of. This was so frustrating! And very tiring. The creaky door and gust of cold air escaping into the outdoors warned me that someone had followed me out, but I didn't open my eyes. I knew what I would see: a pair of blue orbs looking down into mine. "What do you want, Jonathan?" I asked, keeping my eyelids down.

"I thought maybe I could apologize, for last night," he said, cool fingers brushed stray hairs away from my face gently.

"So apologize. Doesn't mean I'll accept it, though," I told him, flinching slightly at his touch. Then I felt his breath against my face.

First thought: this is nice.

Second thought: he is going to KISS me!

My eyes flew open when his lips met mine, and I could do nothing but stare as he pulled away. My mouth fell opened, and I still stared. "What…what…what…" I babbled.  
"You talk too much, Tierney," he said, putting a finger on my chin to close my mouth, and kissed me again. This time I actually took notice. I had no idea what he tasted like, but his lips were light upon mine, and oh, so soft. _Does this count as my first kiss if I can't remember any others?_ I wondered hazily to myself.

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And since I think it's so much more fun to get a response back.... Sorry about the long wait!! Things got really hectic on my end. Hospitals and school and road trips. And I was like, Oooh, spring break! I can update more often! no, not really :P Hope this chap makes up for it!

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	4. Fearless

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: I'm sorry! I've been busy, and so has my beta. Hope this makes up for it. Enjoy!  
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**4: Fearless**

_"Well, you stood there with me in the doorway_  
_ My hands shake, I'm not usually this way_  
_ But you pull me in and I'm a little more brave_  
_ It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really somethin'_  
_ It's fearless"_

_~~Fearless by Taylor Swift_

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He ran his fingers through my hair and slipped his arms around my waist as I wrapped my arms around his neck. My lips began to buzz pleasantly from the uncommon pressure of his mouth on mine. The door creaked, and I pulled back hastily, knowing that my cheeks were beginning to burn bright red. He, however, kept his arms around me as everyone came trooping out of the building.

"That wasn't an apology," I hissed.

He shrugged. "We kissed and made up."

"Yeah right," I snapped, pushing away, trying to ignore the fact that my cheeks were bright red and he was still smirking at me. "It doesn't change anything."

His words floated after me. "Keep telling yourself that, love."

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The steam of the shower washed over me, bathing my tired skin with its warm caresses. I ducked my head, and the water massaged my scalp. Reaching for the shampoo, I reflected that villains certainly needed a lot of _stuff. _I wanted to call them props, but I didn't want anyone to get mad at me. After the Joker's errand, we stopped at a chemical supply warehouse, or some such place, to get chemicals and equipment that Jonathan needed to make more of his toxin. _And why does he need more?_ I wondered, a little irritated. _He wouldn't have to make more if he didn't use it on everyone he came across. _But the water cascading over my body didn't let me entertain frustrating thought for long. After that, we stopped at a hat shop for Jervis. He walked out wearing a stack of "Mad Hatter" hats, which were basically top hats that flared out above the hatband instead of going straight up. I laughed.

I stopped laughing, however, when he stole computer devices and explained to me (using _Alice_ references) that he was going to make mind-control devices that influenced a person's brain. I resolved then and there never to put on another hat without inspecting it very, very carefully. All Edward needed were a couple of riddle books. I thought he had made up his own material, and told him so. He assured me that he did, but he sometimes needed external sources to get his creative juices flowing. This was Edward we were talking about, though, so he didn't say exactly _that_; the man in green covered in question marks made lots of metaphorical remarks and cleverly disguised his meaning. That was the version after I had untangled his meaning, which took some time, I'll say.

I rubbed the shampoo and conditioner into my hair and rinsed, trying not to think about earlier to the time when Jon… I touched my lips and sighed, sticking my face under the water, which was inching toward the scalding mark in order to chase away those unruly, and certainly **_unwanted_**, thoughts. I hadn't accepted his apology. So it didn't matter. Right? I rubbed my arms absently, touching the scars there. I began to count them. Seven tally mark scars on my arm, possibly self-inflicted. Then there was another scar that snaked around the back of my neck and down my shoulder. That was eight. There were also multiple tiny scars around my ankles ad a messy looking one on my right knee, faded with age. I was up to around fourteen by now.

I lost count when someone knocked on the bathroom door. I jumped, fighting the urge to crouch away from the door. I had a shower curtain and a sliding glass door in between myself and a locked door, for goodness' sake! "What?" I snapped over the spray of the water.

"Some other people might want to use the bathroom sometime this year," the person I was just thinking of said from the other side of the door.

"Wait your turn," I commanded, and tried to go back to enjoying the water. But it was harder, knowing _he _was just on the other side of the door. I huffed and shut the water off. _You ruin everything,_ I thought. I slid the door back and reached around the curtain for the towel I had placed on the commode, as if I was expecting him to come through the door. _I did lock it, right?_ I thought for a frantic moment, second guessing myself. But yes, I had. Scrubbing the water droplets off my quickly cooling body, I snatched up my underwear and clothes, thanking every lucky star I knew of that I had brought my clothes into the bathroom with me. I dressed and wrapped the soft towel around my wet hair like a turban and unlocked the door.

He leaned against the wall by the door, with an amused smirk on his face. "Do you usually take half an hour in the shower?" he inquired, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"None of your business," I said stiffly, making sure my towel didn't fall off my head.

He smiled, a full-blown, happy, cute, grin that included teeth that were mostly straight.

Running a finger down my jaw line, he showed me the soapsuds that coated the tip. "Missed a spot," he said, passing me and entering the bathroom, shutting the door, leaving me standing there with my hand touching my face. He had left a trail of fire going down my jaw.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid hormones,_ I huffed to myself.

Going downstairs, I asked Harley if she had a brush, and if so, could I borrow it.

"Sure thing!" she exclaimed, and disappeared into a room. I didn't follow; I didn't want to get any closer to the room Harley and the Joker shared. _Ugh mental pictures,_ I said to myself, repressing a shudder. That just seemed like all kinds of wrongness. Harley popped back out, holding a brush. "Here you go, Tierney!" she said with a smile.  
"Thanks Harley," I said. She just seemed way too chipper. She walked away, and I sat down at the table. Taking the towel off my head and squeezing the excess water out of my brown hair, I began to hack at the tangles with the brush. Just about ¾ of the tangles were gone when Crane came down the stairs in fresh clothes and a sweater vest, of course. His hair was wet as well, but it was short enough that it would dry quickly and leave no tangles. I huffed again. Guys had it easy.

Walking to the kitchen behind my back, his fingers ran through my hair, and I jumped. "Cut it out!" I demanded, jumping up from my seat.

"Just trying to help," he said innocently.

"Well you don't have to."

"What if I want to?"

"Stop it!" I told him.

"Why?"

I didn't like the way my emotions ran wild when he was near. I didn't like the way my heart skipped beats. I wanted to stay mad at him. It was easier to keep him at a distance with anger. But I wasn't going to say that, and since I couldn't say that, I didn't know what to say. It gave him time to get closer, effectively trapping me between him and the table. "I don't like people touching me," I finally said. A stupid excuse, but I hoped he'd get the hint.

"That's strange," he said, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I thought you liked it."

"Well, you thought wrong," I said, trying to move away.

"Was I wrong?" He murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Let go," I said, embarrassed and nervous. It wasn't a good idea to be this close to him, or anyone. It wasn't safe. I started to wriggle away, suddenly aware of several people in the doorways.

"Why?" He asked, pulling me closer. "What are you afraid of?"

I gave him a strange look, wondering if his choice of words were accidental or on purpose. His blue eyes twinkled, something I had never seen them do. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled me close and kissed me again. I tried to push against him, but my toes curled and I melted into his arms. Multiple people began giving wolf whistles but somehow… I didn't care right then. I didn't even mind being close to someone.

"See?" he whispered into my ear after he broke the kiss. "Nothing to be afraid of, Tierney."

_Right, Johnny boy. Nothing, except a lunatic clown, multiple thieves and murderers, insane people, and the fact that somehow I let you kiss me. Three times. And I liked it. A lot. _

_Nothing to be afraid of, except the fact that sometimes you scare me out of my mind. Nothing except I might possibly be in love with you in spite of it._

_

* * *

  
_

He watched her disappear, slipping out of his grasp –again. Jonathan Crane, the wonderful psychiatrist, could not figure this woman out. She was so unique; like a precious stone, she was multi-faceted, having many sides to the same Tierney. He had to admit, he liked them all.

_Even the frightened side? _A low, scratchy voice said, seemingly from behind him. Jon stiffened and refused to give into the impulse to turn. He knew the voice was only in his mind. _Admit it, Jonny-boy, you _like_ her frightened side._

'She looks very pretty with side eyes, but I do not enjoy frightening her,' he replied levelly inside his head.

_You're a liar. It felt _good _gassing her. You wanted to watch her squirm, to cower beneath our gaze. _He chuckled darkly. _You kissed her. I think you'd like her to squirm beneath you, wouldn't you, Jon?_

'No, that's what _you_ want, Scarecrow,' Crane thought, walking to his room and shutting the door. 'You're the liar.'

_We're a regular knights and knaves puzzle, Jonny. One of us always tells the truth, and one of us always lies. Problem is, no one knows who's who._

'I'm the one who tells the truth.'

_What a lie. _Scarecrow laughed. _You know what you want. So just _take _it._

'No.'

_Why?_

'I won't let you take control. Tierney deserves more.'

_Keep tellin' yourself that, Jonny-boy. But what're you gonna do when she keeps pushin' you away? _Scarecrow growled.

Jon sat on his bed and punched the pillow in frustration. Why couldn't Scarecrow just shut up? 'She won't.'

_Yes, she will. _Scarecrow growled. _She's a woman, and angry at that. What will you do after three, four, five rejections?_

'Wait for the sixth, I suppose.'

_I could take care of her for you, _Scarecrow purred, and unbidden, Jonathan's mind filled with lascivious ideas. _I'd let you watch._

'No! Stop it!' He thought, banishing the mental images. 'This is _my_ body, and I am in control!'

_That's what you think. We share the same body, true enough, but we're the same person. I _am_ you. And you _are_ me._

'If you're saying I'm crazy, I knew that already.'

_Not crazy. You don't even have MPD or DID. I'm just one of your darker thoughts that you've given a name because I talked louder than most._

'Why should believe you?'

_Do you?_

'No. Just wondering.'

_You shouldn't. Remember, Jonny-boy? One of us always tells the truth, and one of us always lies. Too bad the rest of the world can't tell the difference. _Scarecrow laughed as he receded from the forefront of Crane's mind, leaving him alone even though criminal filled the rooms around him.

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**_He is Risen!_**


	5. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: just in case you didn't know, last chap DID =dis-associative identity disorder and MPD =multiple personality disorder. Sorry for the wait, life accelerated. And many thanks to my beta Heart of Friendship, who really improved this chapter. Hope you enjoy!  
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**5: Down the rabbit hole to Pillage and Plunder**

**The next day**

I munched on popcorn in the theater beside Jervis. He had wanted to go see the Alice in Wonderland movie, and everyone else had come up with excuses not to go. So I went with him. As I watched the parts where the Mad Hatter went crazy and acted strangely, I hoped Jervis wasn't picking up pointers. He was weird enough as is.

Periodically though the movie, he would whisper in my ear and point out things that were like the book. He seemed quite disappointed that the movie had a plot. I wasn't. The original book by Lewis Carroll was very…odd, probably because the author, being a logician and a mathematician, decided to write a book that had absolutely nothing and everything to do with logic. On the screen, Alice was saying, "Sometimes I believe six impossible things before breakfast."

It made me laugh, and I almost choked on my popcorn. Ironically, very few people believed impossible things, and yet they happened. It was thought that man could not fly, but then the airplane was invented. _They said I would never get out, and look at me,_ I laughed to myself as the film continued. In the end, as in most movies, the villains were vanquished; the motley crew resolved the wrongs and the credits rolled as the lights came on.

"I'd like the make you a hat, Alice," Jervis told me.

First thought: Oh, dear.

Second thought: Mind control! Not good!

Third though: Say something, before he starts measuring you.

"Wow, Jervis. That's really nice of you…but you don't have to," I said. "I don't…um…I don't look good in hats."

He peered up at me. "Nonsense."

"Nonsensical nonsense." I nodded.

"Curiouser and curiouser," he muttered as he walked out of the theater. Opening the borrowed cell phone, I hit the speed dial number.

"Hello?" Jon's voice echoed down the phone line.

"The movie's over," I said.

"We're right near there. Coming your way soon."

I flipped the phone shut and stared at it. What to make of this man, I wasn't sure. One minute he was distant and factual, the next he was sweet and nice, then he scares me, and then after that he kisses me. I rubbed my head and thought about this. There had to be some way to understand him. There had to be a way to figure him out.

I just had to find it. Right?

* * *

The van pulled up to the front of the theater, and Jervis and I climbed in. Clicking my seatbelt, I smiled when Harley exclaimed, "Hi Tierney!!"

"Hey Harl." Looking around the van, it looked like everyone was in here. I carefully didn't meet Crane's eyes. The Joker was driving again, and we lurched away from the curb at top speeds.

"Where are we going?" I asked the occupants of the van as we careened around corners and through red lights. Everybody shrugged.

"Mistah J doesn't plan," Harley offered.

"That doesn't really help," I said, clutching my seatbelt.

The Joker laughed and wrenched the wheel. "What a-bout this?"

We hit what must have been a pothole, and I mean a massive pothole, in crater-like proportions. We all bounced off our seats, hitting the roof, and if you weren't wearing a seatbelt, you kind of ricocheted around the van. That was pretty much everyone except Harley and me. I winced and rubbed my head as Jonathan fell into me.

"That's why you buckle up," I told him once he was steady and back in his seat.

He didn't say anything back, just stared at me with a droll smile on his face, and tingly things raced over me. The little voice in my head whispered, _he's playing you again._

No he's not….I just…have to figure him out.

But as it turned out, it was right.

Our brakes squealed, and as we came to a screeching stop, everyone was thrown forward. My seatbelt stopped me, but everyone else was lucky they didn't go through the windshield.

Hopping out, the Joker passed around guns to the men, and tossed clown masks at Harley and me. I caught mine awkwardly; it was white, with big red lips and yellow stars for eyes, with a hole punched through them so I could see. "Where are we?" I whispered, still fingering the mask.

"Gotham National," the Joker said, licking his lips. My brain filled in the last word –_Bank. _I turned to Harley, but she had put on her mask, hiding her from the world and my gaze. What was she thinking?! I almost groaned out loud, but I had other things to worry about.

_Criminals…they rob and murder. They steal. And they don't give a #*$& about it. _

"I don't want to do this," I whispered. "How about I stay here, with the van?" _Run away, run away, get away, far away…_

"Sorry, Pi-_perrr_. You don't, ah, _get_ that option." The Joker strode purposefully toward me and forced the mask on me, letting the elastic snap sharply into the back of my head. I winced. "Now," he said, licking his lips, "Pi-_perrr, _you're gonna do ex_act_ly what I say." The face paint on his scars was bright red. Blood red.

"Or what?" I said, voice shaking.

He grabbed me by the neck of my shirt and practically pulled me about three inches from his face. "Ya know, you _really_ _should_ be afraid of me. Ya don't, ah, _remember_ that you should, but ya really need to be. Ya_ lose_ things, otherwise."

_Lose things… like body parts?_ His eyes were very dark and cold up close, and as I stared at him, I thought I saw a flash of another face, but it disappeared before I could get a good look at it. _This must be why some people are afraid of clowns, _I thought distantly, trying to not to acknowledge how frightened I really was. You couldn't show fear to the Joker; you couldn't let any of them know if you were frightened. They were all criminals, even Harley now. What that saying? **No honor among thieves**. Could I not trust any of them?

All further thoughts for the moment disappeared when the Joker twisted my arm behind my back painfully and purred behind my ear, "Walk, _Pi-_perrr."

I walked. As I passed Jonathan, I looked up into his face. He had not yet donned his mask. I searched his eyes, looking for something, anything that would help me. That would keep my faith in him. That would help me believe he really didn't want to do this.

His eyes darkened from a bright blue to a navy, midnight blue, and he grinned at me. My heart sunk down into my chest. _This is Scarecrow. And Scarecrow won't help me. Not at all._

Edward and Jervis –no, Riddler and Mad Hatter –opened the glass bank doors, and the Joker pushed me forward. Once we were in the doors he shot off a round into the ceiling. "Ladies and Gents, we are today's entertainment!" He cackled, dropping me, whereupon I promptly tripped over my feet and fell to the floor.

Then he shot the tellers.

It felt like my heartbeat slowed from shock. _I am going to be sick._ The bank customers were cowering behind anything they could find, and women were screaming their heads off. A burlap Scarecrow carrying a metal canister (he had put his mask on by now) gassed those bank employees that weren't shot. Harley was watching the Joker avidly.

_This can't be happening._

_It can't. It can't. It can't. _

_O dear God, this is impossible!_

_…. "Sometimes I believe six impossible things before breakfast"…_

I put my hand over my mouth because my stomach was churning, but my feet had turned to frozen lead. I watched blood ooze sluggishly from a bullet hole in the head of a fallen man. Blood pooled around him. _Number one: I watched a man die. _

A little boy cried, his mother muffling his wails by crushing him to her as they both hunched under a table. The look on her face was stark fear, and tears coursed down her face. But she kept her death grip on her son, and wrapped herself around him, shielding him, protecting him. _Number two: that mother would sacrifice herself for her child, even though she is afraid._

Speaking of fear… Scarecrow tossed a bag in my direction. It fluttered to the floor in front of me, a puddle of black cloth and metal zippers. I did not reach out to take it because it felt like I was paralyzed. I could not move. Things were happening in slow motion. _Number three: appearances can be deceiving._

Harley had received a bag, too, and she walked obediently to the teller windows as the Riddler moved corpses to the floor and pushed aside those who were gibbering in fear, trapped in their own nightmares. Opening the drawers, the masked woman stuffed green bills into her own bag.

This is why we were here, for pieces of paper. And I didn't care about all that hooey Harley had told me about the Joker and the fact that he didn't care about the money, that he was only 'sending a message'. Maybe he didn't care about the money. Funny thing was, I didn't either. It wasn't worth the cost of lives. It didn't even compare. _Number four: "Sometimes you have to do the things you think you cannot do".*_

Reaching under the elastic, I pulled the plastic clown mask that smelled faintly of smoke off my face. It fell face-down on top of the swath of black material. I forced my limbs to move, to stand and walk toward the clowns. A fallen police officer lay on the floor, and I moved toward him, pulling the gun he hadn't had time to reach for out of his holster. I wasn't sure what to do, but my hands did. _Number five: guns don't kill people. People holding guns kill people. _

"Joker," I said, pulling back the hammer on the gun.

He turned and gave me a mad grin. "Pi-perrr. Are you gonna, _ah, shoot_ me?" He licked his lips. "I'd like to see you try."

"Stop this," I whispered as my hands began to shake.

"Why? Do you _think _these people," he motioned to the corpses and frightened citizens, "will applaud you? Lemme tell you somethin'. There is nothing _noble _in this world. _Everything_ is _chaos._ _Morality_ doesn't _exist._"

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not. It doesn't matter. I think what you're doing is wrong. And you need to stop it. Now. Let them go." _What are you thinking, Tierney!? _My mind screamed at me. _You won't get out of there alive!_

"Go ahead and shoot me. C'mon, c'mon." The Joker wasn't smiling anymore. I could see a clown out of the corner of my eye –probably Harley –put a hand to her throat. Out of my other eye, all I saw was a burlap bag; with a rough face stitched into a frown and eyes that glared; fear-inducing, murderous blue eyes. But I snapped my gaze back to the Joker. He was walking toward me. "C'mon. I want you to do it. C'mon, c'mon, shoot me. Shoot me!"

I clutched the gun. _Shoot him, _my brain whispered. _Shoot him! It's so easy… just move your index finger on the trigger. Gotham will be rid of a menace forever! It's a mercy killing. Just do it! _But the thought of anybody, even the Joker, lying on the floor with a bullet in his body, his lifeblood pouring out onto the ground, growing cold, _dying…_ because of me…I couldn't do it. Not even to him. _Number six: 'Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear'._^

I screamed and pointed the gun at the alarm system. My finger pulled the trigger, and two or three bullets zinged into the alarm box, making sparks fly and the buzzers sound to alert the police. I threw the gun in the clown's face and ran, out the door, across the pavement, down the block, crossing the street, running, running, running. The wind whipped my hair, but it couldn't keep drying the tears that kept falling. My chest began to ache, and people stared at my strangely as I dashed past them.

Did the sky know how I felt? It began to sprinkle little water droplets down on me, forming puddles that I splashed through, soaking my jeans and splattering my shirt. It became a full-fledged rainfall soon enough. As water ran down my hair, soaking my clothes right down to my underwear, oozing its way into my shoes, I realized something.

_They aren't following me._

*** Eleanor Roosevelt**

**^ Ambrose Redmoon**

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	6. How Many Half Truths

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: Sorry for the wait, life accelerated. Hope you enjoy!  
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**6: How many half truths did I bear witness to before the proof was disproved in the end?****  
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_~~Holy, _Nichole Nordeman

I sat on top of the building, not caring that the rain drizzled down on me. Everywhere I looked, there were shades of gray. That's exactly how I felt. I pushed my straggling dark hair out of my face and covered my eyes with my hands. What had I been thinking? _Honestly, Tierney? You're such a child. Naïve. Too trusting. Stupid. _The voice sounded like the Joker's, only not as crazy. I socked myself with the words, feeling the ache they left in my stomach, the bitter taste on my tongue that had nothing to do with the fact that the rain was mixing with Gotham's pollution. _You're clinging to these ideas as if they'll save you. What have you ever seen of love, decency, honor and respect? They don't exist. There are no morals._

_They do! They do! _I insisted with myself. _If they didn't exist, I would have no idea what they are like. I'm sure that they're real. _

_You don't remember them, _the devil's advocate in me said. _How do you know? All you've seen are betrayal, pain, greed, deceit, and fear –especially from _him.

_I know. But everything's got a moral, if only you can find it._ That was why I was sitting on the roof of some nondescript apartment building feeling like the loneliest person on the face of the earth; instead of somewhere warm, with Edward, Jonathan, Harley, and Jervis. _I stood up to them. But what did it gain me?_

_Nothing. _My diaphragm muscles contracted as I began to sob in the rain, which had was coming down harder now. Salty tears traced their way down my already wet cheeks, and I started to shake from the cold and the sorrow; this lead to hiccups.

_I'm a mess, _I realized in between the spasms of my diaphram. _I have no idea where to go from here. I have no idea where I came from. And I don't know who I am. _I sniffed back the snot that always seems to leak out of your nose when you cry, and wrapped my arms around my legs, feeling pretty sorry for myself. _Why me?_

That wasn't a very good question. A better one was, _why not you?_

Somewhere in the city, a small lamp lit up the grey sky with the Bat emblem, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness and despair. _I hate this, _I realized, _this feeling of weakness, of not being good enough. Of being lost. I don't know who I am._

First thought: so go find yourself.

_So how do I do that?_

I thought about it. Where was the one place I had been before loosing my memory? Before everything I had held dear disappeared?

The alley.

_Then that's where you go,_ my inner voice said.

* * *

I walked down the streets of the Narrows, not caring for my safety. Reckless, I know, but I probably looked too poor to rob. And, well, if they were after something else, they were in for a rude awakening. I would have liked to pound somebody to a pulp right then, if only to get rid of this woebegone feeling.

My converse slapped the pavement and splashed through puddles as I continued down dark streets; the sun had completely set by this time. People dashed around me with raincoats and umbrellas, trying to stay dry and I laughed softly, remembering the warehouse full of the black billowy things. _Did any of those umbrellas have a fencing foil in them, or perhaps some laughing gas?_ I wondered, hiccupping. I was already soaked to the skin; what did I care about the rain?

After ten minutes of this wandering, I had to admit I had no idea where I was. The whole I-think-I'll-walk-around-'til-I-remember-something idea wasn't working out so well. I sighed and stopped, leaning against a street sign and wishing for something. I don't know what, really, and I didn't really believe wishes got granted, so I had no idea why I did it. Plus, I couldn't see any stars, so it was rather pointless.

"Are you lost?" a voice to my left said.

I blinked and looked around. I finally figured out that I had to look down. A little girl in a pink raincoat and matching umbrella and galoshes smiled up at me. "Ahh…" _Hic._ What was the point of lying? "A little bit."

"Genevieve! Come here!" A woman in her thirties called from under the awning of an apartment building a little ways away, unwilling to get any damper.

"Your mother –_hic- _wants you," I told her.

"I know." She twirled her umbrella. "Why are you lost?"

_Hic. _"I don't know where I am."

Her tiny forehead wrinkled and her mouth puckered. "Yes you do."

I blinked at her, and tried to figure out what she meant. "I've never been here –_hic-_ before."

"But you aren't lost. You're standing right above the street sign, silly. You know where you are." She smiled at me, as if she had just delivered the world's biggest revelation.

"Genevieve! Now!" her mother called, and the little girl waved goodbye and skipped toward her mother.

I stared after her a moment, and then looked up above my head at the street sign, lit by the street light right by it. Carter Street ran straight, and the other perpendicular sign said Diamond Way. Diamond Way was, in reality, a small, dark alley littered with refuse and trash.

Diamond Way was something I remembered.

* * *

I walked into the alley and felt as if I was stepping back in time. There was graffiti on the brick walls, but there were also brown stains. Dried blood. Taking a few more steps, I crouched down on the cement; this was the exact spot where I was found. I remembered waking up to see strange men in my face, asking me questions... _I reach back to touch my head…._ I traced the now healed bump there. _I feel something in my right hand and look down to see a knife, coated with blood. The mother-of-pearl grip slides on my suddenly slick palm and I drop it to the alley floor. One man swoops down on it and slides it into a plastic bag, saying, "Evidence." _Evidence for what?_ I wonder hazily._

_I look around the second man, even though he tries to block me, and I see a body on the ground. It is a man with blond hair, relatively tall, and older than me. He is covered with blood, and I have never seen him before in my life. _

_I shake and shake, realizing that there is blood all over me, too. "Ma'am, we're going to have to take you in for questioning," one of them says. "What's your name?"_

_I try to remember. But _I can't._ I tell them so. But I cannot control the shocky quivers racing over my body. They reach for my arms and I scream, telling them to **stay away from me!** They don't, and I hit them, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to hurt for days. I keep screaming until they shut me up in their squad car, still covered in blood, still shaking, still scared. But no one hears my screams._

Somewhere inside the memory, I began crying again. I hiccupped, rocking and shaking where I was, in a crouch.

The rain stopping was what brought me out of the past. But the words still echoed in my head: _pathetic. Sniveling. Weak. Childish. Unloved. Unwanted. Nothing._ And the person saying the words was myself. I don't know if it was minutes or hours later, but footsteps faintly made their way toward me, skirting the bigger puddles, but still splashing a bit. I didn't open my eyes.

"Tierney," a voice said.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, taking a deep breath.

"I wanted to find you."

"Why?" my voice had a bitter edge. "To take me back? Because my long-term memory may be impaired, but short-term is fine. And I distinctly remember you putting on your d*** Scarecrow mask, robbing that bank. And I remember you standing by, while he _killed_ people. You did _nothing_ to stop it." I stood and faced him. A dark overcoat covered his smart attire, but his blue eyes were very bright, even in the dark alley lit only by a streetlight. Walking up to him, I struck him in the chest. He didn't stop me, though he did recoil. So I hit him again, over and over, screaming and crying "I hate you!" over and over.

"Tierney!" he yelled, trying to grab my wrists. I pulled away and punched him again, sobbing in anger. "Tierney!" he said again, managing to capture my wrists. "Calm down! _Listen_ to me!" He said three words that I would never have expected to exit Jonathan Crane's mouth, ever. "You are right."

"What?" I whispered, halting my struggle against his grip.

"You. Are. Right. I didn't try to stop him. Tierney…" he paused, brushing my hair back behind my ear, and I didn't care enough to stop him. His eyes were full of an inward battle

"I told you the truth, when I said that you helped keep me sane. But I still slip sometimes. I slipped today. There is no excuse for it. I am so sorry." He took a breath. "I was Scarecrow today. Sometimes, I think I like being Scarecrow. I feel like I'm invincible. But he takes over, and I don't have control anymore. I do things and I don't care about the consequences. But I don't want to be Scarecrow anymore. Not with you. I just…I just want to be Jonathan."

I rubbed my face free of tears. "Why should I believe you?"

"I don't know, because I'm being honest?"

My brain wasn't processing this information.

"Won't you trust me, Tierney?"

"I don't trust anyone."

First thought: _that's my problem_

Second thought: _I don't even trust myself_

Third thought_: I wish I did_

"I don't even trust myself," I whispered out loud.  
"Why is that, Tierney?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair. It was a little distracting…but I didn't want him to stop.

"I don't know whether I am trustable. I was found beside a murdered man. I might have killed him. How can a murderer be trustable?"

"You are not a murderer."

"You don't know that."

"But I know you. And the Tierney I know would never kill anyone. You wouldn't even kill the Joker, perhaps the one person on God's green earth who deserves it the most."

"But what if I wasn't the Tierney I am now?"

He just looked at me. "Come here," he said, standing and pulling me up into his arms. I struggled for a bit, but it was just too much effort, and I rested my head against his sweater vest. I could hear his heartbeat. "Your own worst enemy is yourself, you know." I began to shake my head but he started talking again. "Yes, it is. Your head is telling you that you're a murderer and that you'll never amount to anything. Am I right?" His voice was soft.

I looked up into his face. "Yes. How did you know?"

He smiled. "I am a psychiatrist. What is your head telling you?"

I sniffed. "I'm childish."

"That isn't a crime. Children can be very wise."

I thumped his chest. "That isn't what I meant."

"Did you mean petty? Because I have never known you to be mean or small minded. Tell me some more words."

"I'm weak."

"You're the strongest person I know, in more ways than one. Most people break under pressure like the kind you've had." He smiled ruefully. "And you don't pull your punches."

"Unwanted."

"I want you."

I looked up into his face. "I wish I could believe you."

He held me close and whispered in my ear, "Why can't you?"

I sighed. I really didn't want to answer that. _Don't you get that I don't know?_ Finally, I said, "I am just so tired of all the half-truths and the lies."

"No more half-truths. No more lies," he promised.

"How do I know you'll keep your word?"

"You haven't let me try yet," he said, smiling. "What's another word?"

My voice was barely heard. "Unloved."

He turned my chin up to look into his face. He had heard. "Tierney. I love you."

"I don't believe you."

"I know. But I still mean it, whether you believe it or not."

* * *

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**JJ-Jefferu: Yes she did run away. Oh, I love quotes. They're so much fun :) So sorry, you must wait a little longer.**

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	7. What was Meant to Illuminate

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: Sorry for the wait, life accelerated. Hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

**7: What was Meant to Illuminate Shadowed Me Still**

_"Holy" ~ Nichole Nordeman_

Harley was confused. Extremely so. Her heart and head were contradicting each other. Tierney was…a **_friend_**, she supposed, probably the only person who would understand her motivation.

And she had run away.

Madness. It was madness.

Placing her head in her hands, she thought, _my job is probably gone. Totally and utterly. So is my career. So is, well, everything. I don't suppose I'm still considered a hostage here. A hostage to my emotions, maybe. Harley, what are you doing?_ Her fingers began twisting her blond hair, a nervous habit she had picked up when thinking deep thoughts. _I want to stay here. _But what was right anymore? What was wrong? She thoughts she knew once upon a time. But people died all the time, right? Did it matter when or where? Or how? Was it wrong to take money from a bank? It wasn't really the bank's money –it was people's money. It could be _her_ money. 

But she didn't really want her money. She had Mister J. "Mistah" J, if she used the twang she had tried so hard to lose back in college. College seemed like such a long time ago. Everything was confusing then. Now everything was crystal clear. Or maybe she was just crazy like Tierney thought she was. Harley distantly suspected the latter.

They say love makes you do crazy things. There had to be_ something_ wrong with her. She lit up like a light bulb whenever the Joker merely walked into the room. Say, like now.

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, in rolled up shirtsleeves and his vest. He had been standing out in the rain, and his face paint was a little streaked. It also seemed that the green hair dye he used was washable. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to think rationally, telling herself it was hormones she felt; her body was only playing tricks on her head, that sort of thing. She could think logically, sensibly, like she had when finding all the arguments to refuse the men who wanted to distract her from her mission of getting her doctorate. Only, she couldn't really remember how to anymore.

"Hey, dollface," his laughing voice said behind her. Harley felt his hands slide around her neck and around her face, covering her eyes. He wasn't wearing his gloves, and even though he had been outside in the cold deluge, she could still feel the warmth through his skin. Her heart fluttered at the feel of his hands on her cheeks. "Guess _who,_" he said.

"Mistah J," she said without hesitation.

He cackled and pulled her up out of her chair, spinning her around to face him. "How didja guess?"

Harley knew that giving the Joker wrong answers sometimes earned people gaping holes in their body, but she knew no other way to talk to him than to be honest and tell the truth, sometimes bluntly so.

"No one else would make me guess," she said. "And no one else makes me feel like this."

"Oh?" He asked, raising his paint-saturated eyebrows. "What's 'like _this'?"_ He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. But his dark eyes glowed.

The old Harley –no, the old Harleen –would have blushed and tried to change the subject. The current Harley had no course but to try to explain. "Like I have butterflies flying all around in me. Like… like face paint is attractive."

He laughed. "You know dollface, I like you. You've got a, uh, real way of _putting_ things." He said something else after that, but all Harley heard was, 'I like you.' And those three words made her just beam.

* * *

_I sneezed. He had wrapped me in his overcoat, but I was still sopping wet. Jon hailed a cab to take us at least part way back to the Joker's hideout, and he thought I had fallen asleep on his shoulder. I hadn't, though. I was thinking. I didn't want to go back there, but I figured I had nowhere else ****__to_ go. I wasn't sure if I could walk through the door and look the Joker in the eyes.

I was so afraid –of being hurt, of being ridiculed. I was afraid if he laughed at me with his maniacal laugh and tore my shaky values to shreds, I would fall apart all over again. _I'm so tired of defending myself when I don't even know why I'm doing it._

First thought: you're tired because you haven't eaten anything.

Second thought: If Jon was telling the truth, you'll have someone at your back, Tierney.

_But I don't know if I can trust Jon yet._

Third thought: you do it because you know it's right. And we'll see about Jon.

_Yes, I will. _ I breathed in his scent, sort of a combination of laundry detergent and old books –so uniquely him. I took another whiff because I liked it. I, on the other hand, smelled like wet dog and dank alleys. I would take a shower when I got back to the hideout. And sleep; I would sleep for a very long time. After that, I would make plans.

I had to find out who I was. The alley had revealed my earliest memory, but I had to go back further than that. I had to _know,_ once and for all. Because my future was utterly dark until I illuminated the past.

He tapped my gently on my shoulder and said, "Tierney, time to get out." I blinked and sat up, exiting the stationary cab slowly, feeling my wet clothes stick disgustingly to my skin. Jon paid the cabbie and said, "We'll have to walk from here."

I nodded absently, trying to keep my teeth from chattering.

"Tierney, are you all right?" he asked me, stepping in front of me to look into my eyes. I nodded, pulling my gaze away from his bright blue eyes. I had avoided looking into his eyes, because I thought he could look right down into my soul and read my mind or something.

Okay, that was a lie. I hadn't looked into his eyes because I could see into _his_ soul, and what I saw scared me. It was an affection I wasn't sure I could reciprocate.

Generally, broken hearts didn't function all that well.

* * *

_"You turned away when I looked you in the eye  
And hesitated when I asked if you were alright  
Seems like you're fighting for you life,  
But why, oh why?"_

Toby Mac ~"Get Back Up"

* * *

And since I think it's so much more fun to get a response back...

**JJ-Jefferu: aww thanks! I'll take morbily cute, I guess :) here's another chap for you! **

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**DarkRiddlesDestiny: yes, I seem to be into cliff hangers, however it isn't the scary kind. well I guess you'll just have to see, won't you? :D  
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**cuteepiee1: thanks so much! I'm glad you like it. Yeah, Jon's a keeper, isn't he? :)**

**DesirevsNoodles: Yeah, I love torturing readers! No really, Sometimes I just can't figure out what to write or how to write what I want to happen well. So it kind of has to sit in my mind for a while. And then it gets sent to my Beta (who is awesome but had a busy schedule.) But it's summer for me now, so I may be able to write faster. :)**

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	8. Gravitational Madness

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: So, my beta's on vacation. Kind of. And so I feel really bad that it's been such a long time...my beta and I realized something that I had been planning on for a while wouldn't work, so I am rewriting... okay, so here's a unbeta'd chap. Sorry if it sucks. I'll try to remind you guys to look back at this one when the next one comes up. :) Again, sorry. Here you go :)  
**

* * *

**8 Gravitational Madness**

_She did it again, Jonny-boy._

Crane ignored the raspy growl inside his head as he walked beside Tierney down the overgrown road.

_So. You're going to be the oh-so-noble knight and wait for yon fair maiden to finally realize her feelings. If she has 'em at all._

_…You sure ya don't want my help?_

'Shut up!' Jon commanded Scarecrow. 'I don't want to hear you vent.'

_Aww. Did I hit a nerve, Jonny-boy?_

'You are not in charge here. I am. And I will do things my way. The last thing Tierney needs is someone pushing her.'

_Of course she needs a push. Haven't you been listening to the spiel the Joker gives? 'All it takes is a little push'._

'For gravitational madness.'

_For everything. Listen,_ Scarecrow commanded, _with just a little push, Tierney-Piper would come running to you, and you could play the hero, just like you want._

'How do you know what I want?'

_I live in your head, you idiot._

'I thought you said that we were the same person. If that _is_ true, you don't live in my head. You're just me.'

There was silence from Scarecrow. Jon felt strangely proud that he had gotten the last word. Even if the last word was with him self.

* * *

I walked through the door and immediately went for the stairs, my room, and a shower. I could feel the eyes that followed me, but I met none of them. No one said anything, and I offered nothing. If Jon wanted to explain things, let him. I might not ever tell him anything again afterwards, but he could if he wanted to. Leaving wet footprints on the stairs, I grabbed the only other pair of clothes I owned from the room that was designated as mine. Locking myself in the bathroom, I stayed there for half an hour as the hot water poured itself over me. My shivers ceased, and I became very sleepy. Once I was breathing in two parts steam, one part air, I shut the water off and climbed out of the shower. I put on dry –dry! –clothes and wrapped my head in a towel, exiting the warm room to a cooler hallway. My head hit the pillow of my bed and I was out like a light.

But my dreams were not peaceful.

* * *

Harley listened surreptitiously from the green and purple room as a conversation began between the Joker and Crane. Twisting her hair around her finger, Harley was very glad that Tierney had come back and was okay. However, she wasn't sure what Mistah J would think about that. She could just see them through the crack in the door.

"So, C_rrrrrra_ne, where'd you find _her_?" the Joker inquired as he leaned against the kitchen table.

Dr. Crane just stood there, staring at the Joker. The old Harleen had never liked the man, mostly because he had disliked her first, but Harley had no real problems with him. She could tell that he liked Tierney. A lot. That was kind of cute, at least to Harley. Tierney needed something stable in her life; that much she had concluded from her sessions with her. Goodness knows nothing else was.

"I think you know, Joker," Crane replied, finally.

"They say that _Diamonds_ are a girl's best friend," the Joker laughed. Harley was confused. What did that have to do with anything?

"I don't know how you know Tierney, but one day she'll remember."

"Oh, I hope so. The joke won't be funny un-less _Piperrrr_ remembers."

Crane cast him an irritated glance. "I only helped you out of Arkhan to escape. Tomorrow we are parting ways."

"You _sure_ about that, Cran-ey?"

"Positive."

"_Piperrrr_ may have, uh, somethin' to say 'bout _tha-t_."

"I'm sure she wants to get away from you too."

"I ho-pe not-t," the Joker said, popping his 'p' and 't'. "I wanna be there when she _remembers_. It'll be just _so funny!"_ he laughed, slapping his leg as Crane walked up the stairs with a black look.

Harley stepped away from the door and sat down on the bed, pretending to file her nails just before the Joker walked in the door.

"Tsk, tsk," he said, shaking his finger at her. "Listing at doors isn't very _polite._"

"Most fun things aren't," Harley said, crossing mental fingers and hoping.

She was pulled roughly from her sitting position, and fell against the Joker. "Like this?" he muttered, smashing his lips into hers.

Harley molded against him and kissed him back, not stopping until she had to breathe. Air whooshed into her lungs, and they expanded gratefully. Harley murmured absently, a little spacey from her lack of air, "How _do_ you know Tierney?"

He pulled away from her, and then grabbed her face in his hands. "Don't worry your pret-ty lit-tle blond head about i-t," he said roughly in singsong fashion. "Un-der-stand?"

She nodded.

"Good." And he kissed Harley again.

* * *

**And since I think it's so much more fun to get a response back...**

**JJ-Jefferu: Thesauruses help a lot with those kinds of problems. I'm glad you liked it :D  
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**Riddle: Okay, Riddle it is! :) thanks for the pestering. We only GET 18 years to be children. I'm planning on making them last as long as possible. OKAY! Yes you gave me permission to pester. thanks. Here you go.  
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	9. Dreams of a Different Sort

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: woot woot! here's another chap for all you awesome readers! :D Oh, and if you like Crane, I've got another story with him, called Among the Thorns. It's set during Batman Begins. Feel free to check it out! :)  
**

* * *

**9: Dreams of a Different Sort**

_Wide awake in the middle of your nightmare,  
You saw it comin' but it hit you outta no where,  
And there's always scars  
When you fall back far_

_Toby Mac ~ '_Get Back Up'

_Rain pours down on top of me. The waves crash over me. There are weights on my ankles and I can barely stay above the surface of the water. Everything is dark. There is no light anywhere. I cannot see the shore, if there is one at all. A wave hits me right in the face and my mouth fills with seawater. I am so afraid I am going to drown. _

_But I know I am dreaming. _

_I have had this dream before. In the Asylum, when I was truly mad. The water is madness, and the air is sanity, reality, and reason. I try to cling to it, but I cannot grasp it because it is only air, and I slide down into the cold, dark, deep waters of madness again._

_I know I am dreaming. I'm not _really_ drowning._

_But I can't wake up. _

"Tierney!"

I opened my eyes, gasped, and sat up. The only thing I could focus on was a pair of blue eyes. Distantly, I could feel my heart beating a mile a minute, and I know I was taking big, deep breaths, but I was getting lost in his eyes. Then they blinked, and I could feel again.

"Tierney, you were talking in your sleep," Jonathan Crane said, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"What did I say?" I whispered.

His eyes were concerned, worried. "You said, 'I'm drowning.'"

I remembered the dream. "I think I was," I said softly, looking down at the bed. I traced the weave of the sheets for a minute, trying to make sense of it. Abruptly, I looked back up into his eyes. "How did you hear me?"

"I think whoever built these partitions between rooms was notoriously unreliable. I can hear Jervis snore three rooms away," Jonathan said, smiling a bit. His eyes were pulling me in again. His glasses were in the neck of his sweater vest. My head felt so heavy. I leaned toward him and rested my head on his chest. There was that familiar scent again –old books and laundry detergent.

First thought: is this safe?

Second thought: well, if it feels safe it probably is.

Third thought: it does feel safe.

He didn't say anything, just sat there silently and cradled my head against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat and his breathing. It was soothing and quiet.

Until someone shrilled out "BREAKFAST!"

Judging from the timbre and pitch, it was female, therefore, Harley.

I felt Jon's laugh resonate in his chest. "I told you these partitions were notoriously unreliable," he said, ruffling my hair. I sat up and gave him a look but he just smiled in an amused way. "Are you hungry?"

My stomach growled right when I opened my mouth. "I guess so," I said ruefully as he laughed again. He got up off my bed and held out his hand to help me up. I took it gratefully, and then pushed him out of my room. "I have to get ready," I told him.

"I think you look just fine."

I stuck my tongue out at him and shut the door. Leaning against it, I replayed that scene in my mind, and smiled again at the warm and fuzzy feelings that returned. A minute later I shook myself and started searching for some other clothes to wear. In the bottom drawer of the rickety dresser were a pair of gray jeans and a nice blue sweater with three quarter length sleeves. I picked up the sweater and rubbed the cloth against my cheek. It was so soft!

But…it looked familiar. I tried to place the clothes. Maybe they were Harley's and she had given them to me to wear. If that was the case then I had probably seen them on her. But I couldn't think of a time when Harley had ever worn anything except a female business suit type outfit to work… The blue color was what had attracted my attention. _Maybe I'm likening it to the color of Jon's eyes, _I thought as I slipped the clothes on and discarded my wrinkled ones. Pulling a comb with some teeth missing out of the bottom drawer, I decided that regardless of what my brain was trying to remember, Harley had probably put the clothes there. I had asked her for a brush yesterday. Or was it the day before?

I couldn't remember. _Stupid trauma and shock._ I ran the comb through my brown hair and let it fall loosely around my shoulders, tossed the comb back in the drawer, and headed downstairs barefoot.

I wasn't going to worry about the Joker. He could do whatever the heck he wanted, but I wasn't going to listen to him and I wasn't going to look at him. That was all there was to it. I didn't know what I was going to do about my situation here, didn't know where I would go if I decided not to stay, but I figured that I would worry about that after breakfast. Right now my stomach was eating a hole through my backbone.

I descended the stairs and scanned the people in the eating area. The men were drinking coffee and reading the paper again, the flunkies at one table, and the Joker, Edward, Jervis, and Jon at another. Harley looked like a 50's housewife sans the hairdo standing at the stove. She smiled brightly at me and cooed, "Hi Tierney! You look pretty!"

"Thanks, Harl." I smiled at her as I walked up to the counter.

"Do you want some coffee?" she offered, enthusiastically stirring the scrambled eggs in the frying pan she was holding. "I can whip up another cup."

"No thanks, I'm…pretty alert this morning." I did feel awake, very much so; in fact, things seemed very…sharp and pointed, clear. Trying to describe a feeling was tough, but I gave it a good shot. "By the way, thanks for lending me these clothes," I said gesturing to my outfit. "They're really nice, I –"

Harley broke in with a puzzled frown. "I didn't lend you those clothes."

I stared at her. "You didn't?" I heard my voice crack, and fear seeped in.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I've never seen 'em before. They're pretty, though," she said, turning away.

I stared at the blue material on my arms, now utterly foreign and unexplainable. Rolling my arms so that my palms were now face up, I just noticed that the tally-mark scars on my arm were showing above the sleeve, the white, raised lines standing out against my skin.

I reached out to try and pull the three-quarter length sleeves down when a voice cackled, "It's hard to cover the scars when you're wearing that top, huh, _Piper?"_

I had started to pivot and confront the Joker, but something round and _hard_ slammed into the back of my skull with a lot of force. I yelped and clutched my noggin; bright lights started to spin around the room, and I blinked my eyes, trying to clear my vision up.

Distantly I could hear Harley frantically apologizing, but I started to tunnel vision and a huge whirring noise filled my ears. Everything started going gray.

_This isn't real! What's going on?_ I thought frantically.

_And then all of a sudden my vision was clear. I could see a green field and a huge, opulent mansion in front of me. The whirring sound seemed to be above me… Black-gloved hands take my much-smaller hand and lead me down a few steps. My head turns around and stares. I had just exited a helicopter. That explained the whirring noise._

I'm not really here,_ I realized. _This isn't the present. This is the past. I'm in a memory.

* * *

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	10. Journey to the Past

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**AN: Since I am going to be going on a trip and will not be back until next monday, and since I am another year older, I give you the chapter you've been waiting for. I hope you enjoy. :)  
**

* * *

10_: _Journey to the Past

_You rolled out at the dawning of the day__  
Heart racing as you made your little getaway.  
It feels like you've been runnin' all your life  
But why, oh why?_

_Toby Mac ~"Get Back Up"_

_"_Piper, come along, we don't want to be late." _The woman's voice is soft and strained with sadness. My hand clutches hers. After entering a black limo, we pull out into a fancy neighborhood, though 'neighbor' is a relative term because each house sits on at least four acres. The Palisades: the best section of residential Gotham where all the rich and wealthy live. I peer out the window to see why we are moving so slowly, and see policemen and a funny shaped black car at the intersection ahead. _

"Mommy, what is that?"

"It's a hearse, Piper."_ Her voice broke._

* * *

_They say that when you have a funeral in Gotham, it always rains because God is crying. _

_God must cry a lot, because there are a lot of rainy funerals in Gotham._

_But that could just be the high crime rate and the pollution._

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"_ a preacher says. I turn and stare at the woman. A man stands beside her with an arm wrapped around her. His face is stony; he is not sad. _

"David Holland was a loving brother, husband, and father…"

_The woman is desperately sad. She is beginning to sob. I begin to sob as well as I cling to her skirts. _

"Stop crying, Joyce. I'll take care of you," _the man says, trying to comfort but falling short. I glare. I do not like him. _

* * *

"Piper, get down here! We're leaving!" _a man calls._

_An older me, a teenager judging by the loud, intrusive music in the background, ignores the call and keeps searching my closet for something. The door bangs open and the music cuts off. _

"Piper, we're dropping you off at your skating lesson before we go out to eat," _the calm feminine voice says._

"I can't find my lucky scarf, Mom. The one dad gave me_," I say before turning around._

"I'm sure he would understand if you skated without it just this once," _she says, buttoning her coat._ "But we've got to go, dear."

* * *

_The cold is what scares me. _

_I shuffle my feet as I wait in front of the skating rink to be picked up. They kicked me out at nine and said they had to close. Now it's nearly ten, and the night is dark._

_I stand under the bright yellow light in the parking lot, shoving my gloved hands into the armpits of my coat. My bag is between my feet, and I shiver as the cold air strikes my face over and over again._

_They have never been this late before. _

_A few minutes later a cop car cruises past, sees me, and stops. An officer gets out and walks toward me. "_Hey kid. Why're you out here alone?"

"M-my mom and her h-husband are l-late picking me up," I stammer as my jaw chatters.

"When were they supposed to pick you up?" _he asks. His eyes are kind, and a wide mustache hides his upper lip. He looks trustworthy, though I know few people in this town are._

"Eight," _I whisper._

"Hmm," _he says, concern clouding his gaze. It is then I give in to myself and admit that something is very wrong._

_

* * *

_

_It is raining again. I have decided something in my heart –I hate the rain._

"Joyce Elaine Holland Lawson and Mark Robert Lawson died in a car crash late Thursday night," _the preacher says in a reverent tone. _"We may wonder why this was the time, or the place, for them to leave us, but we know that the Lord has a plan for all of us. A plan for prosperity and not calamity. For hope in the midst of darkness…"

_I see their eyes, those crows in black suits and dresses, holding black umbrellas above their heads. They stare at me. I am to be pitied. The 'poor, helpless, rich orphan' needs comfort. I don't need comfort. I need something to make me _feel._ I have been comforted within an inch of my life. I have been wrapped up in cotton because they all think I'm breakable. I don't need to be protected. I need to feel _something _besides this oppressive numbness. _

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

_Lord, why didn't you take me too?_

_

* * *

_

_I sit in the back of the car and stare at the small house. Number 423 Jefferson Street. Home to the relatives I have never met. _

"Bea is your mother's older sister," _the social worker is telling me as I sit glumly in the back._

"She's a very nice woman, a nurse at the local hospital." _I try and drown her out. This neighborhood isn't the Narrows, but it's a first cousin once removed. The paint peels on the little gray houses, adding to the morose feel. I have never met this woman or her family. I do not know why she and my mother have never spoken. I cannot understand why I have lived in such opulence before, and am now reduced to such squalor. _

_The social worker is opening my door, and now I have to get out. "_I know this is hard, Piper, but she's the only family you've got." _I grab my bag and slam the door. There are three cardboard boxes in her trunk that I will get later. I know my inheritance is in trust, and I can't touch it until college, and then I only get a sum large enough to just cover the tuition. I am not allowed access to the whole thing until I am twenty-one. I overheard the social worker talking to this woman, Bea, on the phone, saying that money from my inheritance would be paid out in annual sums to cover the cost of living here._

_From the looks of this place, they need it._

* * *

_Gotham High's bathrooms are gross. _

_Scratch that._

_Gotham High is gross. Period._

_In the classroom, you can't tell. The teachers are all either as scary as anything, or limp dishrags to be ignored. But even the weak ones can still write detentions, so it's held in. It's another story everywhere else._

_I have learned the rules of bathroom etiquette here. You open the door slowly, peering in to see if anyone of the opposite sex is in your bathroom. If there is, vacate the premises. If not, go ahead and walk in. _

_Take your stuff into the stall with you or it might get stolen. Then check feet under stall doors. If you see feet, they're actually using the bathroom. If you don't see feet but smell smoke, they're smoking. Make sure to keep a stall between you and the smokers, because they stand on the toilet seat and sometimes look down into other stalls. Which is awkward and creepy. _

_Make sure your door locks. Make sure you put toilet paper on the seat before you sit down; people stand on these things, after all. Do your business as quickly as possible. If you have to be clean and wash your hands, do it fast. There are cutters waiting for sinks. _

_Wipe your hands on your jacket/pants/shirt/whatever, because there are never any paper towels and the floor is always covered in trash. Peek out the door to see if anyone of the opposite sex is outside the door. If there isn't, leave fast. If there is, you're between a rock and a hard place, because few have qualms about going in the girl's bathroom, and leaving might not be so safe either. _

_Like I say, gross._

_I walk into the bathroom and follow all these rules one particular day, and oddly, I take this novel opportunity to actually wash my hands. But I notice that there is a tinge of red in the sink. _

_What drives people to hurt themselves? It isn't suicidal. Perhaps it's an attempt to control something in their lives?_

_Perhaps they only want to feel something. Like me._

_Two girls walk into the bathroom with packs of cigarettes in their hands. I leave._

_

* * *

_

_I hate my life here. A boy named Jack accosts me every day in Drama. He's the class clown and he thinks he's all that. All the girls faint at his feet. I just think he's annoying. Apparently because I am the only female who has never shown any interest in him at all, he thinks I am the one to pursue. He can get quite lewd at times, but I ignore him. He's simply a nuisance. _

_I don't feel much anymore. All the pain of life just isn't there. I just…feel a void. _

_I'm sitting on the floor of the black box theater doing some of my homework when he walks by. His sneaker catches on a nail sticking out of the un-surfaced floor and he trips._

"Walk much?" _I mumble, rolling my eyes. _

_The footsteps stop. _"Shut up," _he says, _"Miss prissy rich #*$&." _He laughs, taking a different tack to get me to respond. _"Hey, that rhymes. I'm a regular Shakespeare."

_I snort and stare at my pre-Cal homework. _"Yeah, 'cause Shakespeare had a dirty mind, and you do too."

_His hand slaps down on my shoulder and I jump. I stand, trying to pull away from his painful grip. He's stronger than he appears. Last week in one of the annual fights Gotham High always seems to have, he took on three guys at once and walked away with only bruises. It's rumored he's got mob connections. _

"Sheesh, Jack, get a grip, it's just a joke," _I say, but my voice has a tremor to it. And darn it all if he doesn't hear it._

"Oh, so I can't take a jo_ke_?" _he says. _"So I don't have a sense of hu-mor, Piperrr? Can only rich bigots have a sense of hu-mor?" 

_I don't know what to say to calm him down. I don't know what to say. _"Just chill, okay?" _I finally mumble. _"What did I do?"

_He raises his eyebrow at me, smirks the way he does. He's a regular Romeo around the girls with that smirk. It's only irritating to me. _"What did you, ah, _do_?" _he repeats, shaking his head._ "You're so stupid, Piper. You _came _here, and you think you can just _slip by _unnoticed. You don't want _my_ attention. So what _do_ you want?"

_I want to feel something again. But I don't tell him this. The teacher enters then and I take the opportunity to escape his grasp._

_

* * *

_

_I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I just want to make sure I feel something. I just feel like I haven't felt anything in a long time. Not since Mom died. And that was two years ago. _

_I found a razor blade and sterilized it. I don't want to kill myself. Not nearly. One more year, then I'm college bound and free. I'm not giving up yet._

_I just want to feel something. _

_I clench my teeth._

_The red lines appear on my arm, first one, then another, and another. I make four and then cut across, tally-mark style, for the fifth. Then six. Then seven. _

_Someone comes in the bathroom door, making me jump, but they don't even look at me. This is Gotham High, after all. I blink, feeling my arm sting at the sudden jarring, wincing, watching the blood drip off my arm into the sink. I know skin isn't supposed to have holes in it. You aren't supposed to hurt yourself. I feel slightly sick. _

_Washing the blood down the drain, I wrap gauze around my arm tightly after applying Neosporin. I bury the bloody tissues and razor in the trashcan. Shoving my arms through my jacket, I zip it, and walk out the bathroom door._

_I jump again as I see who's outside the door –Jack. _"Are you a creeper or something?" _I demand. _"Sheesh." _I try to walk around him._

_He grabs my arm –the cut one –and starts to say something, but I yelp at the sudden pain._

_He pushes my sleeve up and sees the bandage. _"Aww, Piper's a cutter? She's so unstable she has to cut herself to find reality?" _he taunts._

"Shut up, you don't know anything!" _I snarl._

"I know you're a cutter. You're gonna cut yourself up and then everyone will hate you even more than they _already do, _Pi-perrrr." _I slam my fist onto his arm and he curses and lets go. I don't give him a cute comeback. I run down the hallway away from the bathrooms._

_I will show you, Jack. I will never cut myself again. It served its purpose. I now know I can still feel. _

_But the only thing I felt was pain._

_

* * *

_

_Graduation is equated with freedom everywhere, and it is the same with me. I stand with a class of people I hardly know in red gowns and caps, smiling for a picture. I am free of high school, but not free of Gotham. Not yet. There is still the summer to get through._

_

* * *

_

_I walk through the streets, coming back to my aunt's house from my job at the local diner. Two more weeks, I tell myself. Two more weeks, and I can leave this town. _

_August in Gotham is scorching hot. I sweat buckets as I walk down the street; even at nine o'clock at night, the heat doesn't let up. Shadows stretch long along the street as I walk the five blocks back. This isn't the Narrows, but it's pretty close, so I have to keep my wits about me. _

_All of a sudden, I jump. A scream echoed from the alley mouth up ahead of me. I shrink away from two looming figures that hustle out of the alley and walk down the street nonchalantly. But the screams keep coming. _

_I am afraid of what I might see. But I have to see if I can help –call the police –do something –_

_The light from a street lamp illuminates the figure that staggers out of the alley. It is a man, and he turns toward me. I scream myself. It is Jack.  
His mouth has been cut from the corners of his lips to nearly his ears. The whole lower half of his face is covered in blood. Simply covered. My stomach turns, and I cover my mouth. He coughs and groans, _"Piper…"

_That isn't Jack. It can't be jack. He looks like a ghoul, a zombie, something that has died. I dodge the hand that reaches out to me and run, run far away down the street. I can hear him call after me, a garbled, unintelligible phrase. But I don't turn. _

_Three blocks later, I stop running and throw up into a trashcan. 'Okay, Piper, get a grip. Where's your cell phone?' I whip it out and dial 911. The operator picks up._

"Hello? There's a man on the corner of Carter Street and Diamond way; his face has been slashed and he's bleeding everywhere. He needs an ambulance." _My voice shakes, but I can't become hysterical. Not yet._

"Okay, ma'am, we're sending an ambulance right now, please stay on the line –"

_I can't. I just …I just can't. I snap the phone off, severing the connection, and run the rest of the way back. I slip into my room and hug my knees to my chest. His face haunts my nightmares –his poor face, slit in half._

_I barely leave the house until I go to college._

_

* * *

_

_I never went back to Gotham until I got a call, ten years later, that my aunt had died. _

_I walk out of the funeral home, wishing that I could bump my flight back to Los Angeles up a few days to get away from this town. It stunk of death here. The decay was evident everywhere. It was like a cancer, eating away at the city until, eventually; only a broken hull would remain. _

_My feet pad softly along the sidewalk as the heavy clouds roll in. I rub my hands against my gray jeans and rub my arms too; the light blue sweater doesn't offer much warmth. I had forgotten Gotham's inclement weather. _

_I had forgotten other things about Gotham as well._

_I didn't hear him until he was right behind me, clapping a hand over my mouth and forcibly dragging me into an alley. I start to scream, hyperventilate, thinking 'mugger', 'rapist' and worse things. My eyes grow wide when I see his face, so wide that I think they'll pop out of their sockets. _

_His hand drops from my mouth, and I whisper, _"Jack?"_ Horrified, completely terrified, I stare at his face that has healed into bumpy, uneven scars –a terrible ghastly grin._

"Piper, Piper, Piper," _he says, shaking his head at me._ "You didn't help me that day. Not at all."

"No, Jack, I called the ambulance –" _I try to say._

_He slams me against the brick and I whimper._ "But you ran!" he growls. "You left me like _this_!"_ He suddenly laughs, and it clashes on my nerves. It is not a sane laugh._ "But now I see the funny side, even if you don't. Not right now. But you _will_. I promise_," he says, glaring at me with dark, dark eyes._ "I'm a man of my _word_, after all."

_Taking hold of my dark hair, he throws me to the ground. The base of my skull hits something, and I yelp. Black spots close in, draining me of all life._ "Piperrr," he says_. I hear him faintly through the blackness._ "I'm going to take your life away. And you wanna know the _really_ funny side?" _he cackles._ "You won't even remember it was me."

_And then there was simply nothing_

* * *

**And since I think it's so much more fun to get a response back...**

**JJ-Jefferu: yeah, fanfic has some problems :P and...TA DA! now you know. So what do you think?  
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**Riddle: yeah, but roller coasters are fun! :D you've found out now, were your predictions correct?  
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**DarkRiddlesDestiny: I KNOW! Sorry. Try not to have a heart attack. It was worth the wait, wasn't it? :)**

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**Poprocks311: Thanks so much for your review! :D**

**Mistress Ratchet: Thanks so much! I appreciate it. :D  
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**Thanks so much to **** Poprocks 311, OceanSyren, Sinario, xmen fanatic-aka-I LUV MUTANTS, and Mistress Ratchet for your alerts and favorites! I appreciate it.**


	11. Revelations

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**

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**

**AN:**

**Sorry I was gone! I went to LIFE 2010, which is an awesome youth conference! It was in Kentucky this year. you can probably google or youtube it. It was THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER! the theme was Co[]ide. We were colliding with God all over the place. It was TOTALLY AWESOME! I'm so glad I went. SO worth it. Speakers were Francis Chan, Derwin Gray, and James Grout, not to mention all the totally super smaller session speakers. Saw Hawk Nelson and Kutless, learned more about missionaries and things overseas...just AWESOME! XD**

**And because of this, I realize that when people compliment me on my writing skills, what i'm now going to say is, 'They aren't mine. God gave them to me; I'm just a steward trying to use these gifts as best I can. All the praise and glory goes to Him.'**

**But anyways. Here's the next chapter. ****sorry that this is really short, but the last one was really long. and hopefully I will be updating soon! **

11 Revelations 

_So you pull away from the love that would have been there_

_And start believing that your situation's unfair_

_But there are always scars when you fall back far_

_Toby Mac ~ "Get Back Up"_

The blackness was nice. I could hide. No one could find me. I could cower from the world. But someone was washing my face with cold water, and something really powerful was under my nose. _Ammonia, _I thought. The darkness was retreating.

I swam back to reality slowly. "Tierney?" someone that sounded like Jon said. "Can you hear me?"

"Mmm…yeah," I mumbled, not wanting to open my eyes. "Wha' happ'ned?"

"Tierney, you got whacked in the head with a cabinet door," Jon said, his voice revealing his relief and humor.

I winced. I could feel the bump. "Uhh, it felt more like something round to me…"

"That would be the handle on the door," he informed me. I opened my eyes slowly. His blue eyes were laughing.

"It hurt," I informed him.

"Holy Gingerbread Men, Tierney, I am _soooo_ sorry," Harley said, poking her head into my field of vision. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm –" I winced as a sharp pain flashed through my head. "Uhh…" I pushed myself up off the floor, with help from Jon, and glanced down at my sweater. I stared at the scars peeking out from under my sleeve. My hands, now shaking, brushed the raised lines, like Braille, speaking a language only a few people could actually read and understand.

I understood it now.

My head snapped up, searching for a face.

I found it –that wide red grin that accentuated the scars that had never healed correctly, eyes as black as coal, and a stark white face.

Terrible, awful anger welled up inside me. I pushed myself off the floor and lunged at his face. "JACK!" I screamed.

"Tierney!" Jon said, grabbing me around my waist so that I couldn't claw his eyes out the way I wanted to.

I writhed and struggled and cried, screaming, "That's not my name! My name is PIPER!"

He didn't even so much as move; he just smirked that same hateful smirk that was even more hideous with the scars.

"Let me go, Jon!" I yelled, turning my anger back on him as I slammed my fists into his arms wrapped around my waist. I knew that everyone else was staring at me like I had grown two extra heads, but I was so angry and sick of all the secrets and the _lies_ that **I did not care.**

"Tierney, calm down, calm down, _think,"_ Jon was saying.

"My name is Piper, my name is Piper, my name is Piper," I sobbed, subsiding into his arms to give into gut-wrenching sobs. I felt him pick me up and carry me somewhere, upstairs probably, but I didn't care. I alternated between sobbing on his shoulder or struggling to get away and try to kill that sick clown downstairs.

He entered through a door, closed it behind him, sat me on something soft, and began whispering to me. I couldn't hear what it was over the sound of my sobs, but it was soothing. My cries finally stopped, but the tears did not. He held me close and stroked my hair as I soaked his sweater vest.  
There was an ache in my chest that would not go away.

* * *

After I don't know how long, my tear ducts finally refused to make any more tears, and I wiped my red and puffy face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whispered to Jonathan. He was so patient with this crazy girl he cradled in his arms. So willing to listen. So understanding, so loving. He had told me he loved me. I told him I didn't believe him.

I was such a liar.  
"I take it you've remembered something," he whispered, touching my hair gently.

"I've remembered everything," I said, drawing a shaky breath.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

I tilted my head back and looked him in the face. His gaze was so open and honest, it almost broke my heart. I could read all the love in his eyes. I smiled at him, finally realizing what I had resisted for so long. I believed him now. And…I almost thought…I might love him back.

"Yeah," I whispered, running a hand over my face and taking the first breath. Freedom was such a liberating thing. "Yeah, I would."

* * *

**And since I think it's so much more fun to get a response back...**

**JJ-Jefferu: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'm glad; it means a lot to me :)  
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**Riddle: Gobsmacked is a funny word! :D true that!  
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**DarkRiddlesDestiny: Thanks so much! had a great bday :) so glad you were surprised.  
**

**Remembering Yesterday: well, I guess you'll have to wait and see again. so glad you were surprised!  
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**Poprocks311:  
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**Mistress Ratchet: hahaha... yes it was. i am devious :D thanks for your review!  
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**Sinario: glad you liked it! thanks for the review! :D**

**Laurenmlbc: thanks so much for the reviews! yeah, I tried to work it out well with the flashbacks. stay tuned!**

**Devoted2You: thanks so much! XD yes she does know! and now you see what she has done :)**

**Miss Mercury101: yeah, she got hit over the head and got her memories back. :)**

**silverkittn1991: Thank you so much for all your reviews! They make me very happy.**

**Thanks so much to Devoted2You and Piratechief**** for your alerts and favorites! I appreciate it.**


	12. Confessions and Explanations

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**

* * *

**

**AN: I KNOW IT"S BEEN LIKE 5 MILLION YEARS I AM SO SORRY! *hides behind things* *peeks out* I was without wifi. and my beta isn't responding to the things i send her, so this is unbeta'd. SORRY! Please don't hurt me... but there's just this chapter, and then the next and we're done. i'm sorry this sin't the longest. and if you don't like what goes on, i didn't have a sounding board so...yeah. tough love and stuff.  
**

12: Confessions and Explanations

_We lose our way, we get back up again__  
It's never too late to get back up again  
__One day you're going to shine again  
You may be knocked down but not out forever_

_~ Toby Mac 'Get Back Up'  
_

I began to tell the tale I only recently remembered. "My name… my _real_ name… is Piper Tierney Holland. I don't know how he changed my name," I said, my eyes darkening when I thought of the Joker –no, Jack. "But Lawson was my mother's second husband's name." I shook my head. "I'm getting ahead of myself before I even start!"

"Take your time," Jon said, "I'll catch up."

I blew some stray strands of hair out of my face, and he helpfully tucked them behind my ear. I smiled and said, "I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. The Palisades, you know." He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "My father died when I was a kid. I don't really remember how. My mother remarried, but then I was a teenager, they died in a car crash. I was sent to live with an aunt on the clean side of the Narrows." I traced the pattern on the bedspread, only then realizing I wasn't in my room.

"I brought you to my room," Jon said. "It was reflex, sorry. If you're uncomfortable –"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. It's very nice." It was. The bedspread was navy and the wallpaper wasn't peeling like it was in my room.

"Why thank you, but I had nothing to do with the décor," he said, smiling mischievously.

I pushed him playfully, still not sure what to do with my newfound feelings. "Can I get back to my story now?"

"By all means," he said, tilting his head back to listen.

"I went to Gotham High. And I met a boy named Jack." My mouth twisted. "Everyone liked him except me. And apparently, that made me interesting. But he soon decided he hated me. I'm sure there's some sort of shrink reason for that," I said, glancing at Jon.

"Probably. But I'm here to listen to you, not analyze the Joker –you did call him Jack, didn't you?" Jon said curiously.

"Yep," I said, nodding. "I'm getting to that part. So, I survive Gotham High, graduate, get through almost all the summer –and then –" I stopped. I couldn't really figure out how to say it. Would he think less of me? Would it make him stop loving me before I worked up the courage to tell him I loved him back?

"Then what?" he prompted.

"I saw him –Jack –covered in blood, his face slit open from his mouth up to his cheekbones." I shrugged, seeing it again in my mind. "The blood is just …everywhere." I closed my eyes and said, "I ran away. He called my name, but I ran away. I called an ambulance, I know I did something for him, but in my dreams I always saw him running after me, bleeding out, yelling my name." I shuddered. "I could never remember my dreams before. Now I do."

Jon mumbled something shrink-like, probably to himself, about amnesia. I poked him. He blinked. "What?"

"You were doing something shrink-like," I said.

"Oh," he said. "Right, you were explaining. Go on."

I smiled. He was rather endearing when he spaced out like that. "Yeah. Went to college, got a job on the west coast, never thought about this city again, until my aunt died. So I had to come back." I rubbed my head. "And then I got jumped by a paint-less Jack and everything goes black, until I wake up in Diamond Way without a past."

"And you don't have any idea how he changed all your information or erased you from the databases, Tier- I mean, Piper?" Jon asked.

I shook my head. "I don't really know how to reconcile pre-amnesia and post-amnesia," I said softly.

"How so?"

"I know my name is Piper. Somehow I always knew." I glanced at him. "…But I like it when you call me Tierney."

"Okay," he said, "Tierney it is then." He hesitated. "You know, last night, before you regained your memories, I told the Joker we weren't staying here anymore. I don't know if you want to stay, or go, but…"

I cut him off. "I want to go."

He smiled but didn't say anything.

"Do…do you not want to come?" I asked.

"I didn't know if I was invited," he replied.

"Of course you're invited," I said. "I… I do…"

He waited patiently for me to find the words. He was always patient with me. And I loved him for it.

"Remember what you said to me in the alley?" I asked. He nodded, his blue eyes understanding. "Well…I love you, too," I said really fast. "I didn't realize I could trust you 'til just now, but I realize how self-centered and afraid I've been and I just–"

"Tierney," he said, stopping my words. "I love you, too."

And then he leaned forward and kissed me.

_This is love calling, love calling out to the broken  
__This is love calling, love calling,  
I am so broken, this is love calling_

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**And since I think it's so much more fun to get a response back...**

**JJ-Jefferu: hmmm...yeah...about that...i don't know if that's going to work out...we'll see.  
**

**Riddle: discombobulated is another hilarious word! You know what's a funny word? Bamboozled. and no, i don't kill off my OC! it's bad form lol. not to mention a real downer, since this story's in first person.  
**

**DarkRiddlesDestiny: i know, isn't he just darling? ;) thanks for the review, and for patience.  
**

**Sinario: I love fluff! the last few chapters feel really fluffy to me, but idk. what do you think?  
**

**Devoted2You: I know, he's so cute! XD I've gotten a couple of comments about that...I'm not really sure how that's gonna work... my beta and I will chat. true, they were both at fault.  
**

**silverkittn1991: that's great! Life is a conference that happens once every 3 years for highschoolers, but there are tons of other confrences and things that are great, like Acquire the Fire and others that I can't remember right now... oh, the Revolve Tour. other stuff. they're great. I hope you find a good church. I like small churches because you can get to know people well, but that's just me.  
**

**JessicaMarieLynnHale: thanks so much! glad you love it :)**

**luneara eclipse: I guess you'll have to see, hmm? :) sorry the wait has been long.  
**

**Queen of Clubs: haha, I get those moments a lot. :) I'm SORRY! I explained in the AN at the top. i missed you guys.  
**

**Thanks so much to Lady-Kiki-Theevilmastermind****, DaughterofDemeter, Spirit of the Sky, luneara eclipse, CrossmoonChic7459, Ania087, ****hikariserenity, lovinlife83, and QueenOfClovers93** **for your alerts and favorites! I appreciate it.**


	13. The Road Less Traveled

**Title: _Revealing Reason_**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything except Tierney and the general plot. This story does not contain slash. This story does not contain incest. This story does not contain extremely graphic violence. This story does not contain adult scenes. This story contains few (if any) swear words.**

**With this said, read on, valiant reader!**

**

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**

**AN: So... LAST CHAPTER! Unbeta'd, sorry. I like the way I ended this; you might not. Sorry. Couldn't please everybody. But I hope you do, and thanks so much to everybody for everything, all the reviews, alerts/faves...it's just been a blast. *High fives all* Enjoy!  
**

13. The Road Less Traveled

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—  
I took the road less traveled by  
And that has made all the difference_  
"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost

The kiss was quiet. Soft. Chaste. I still wasn't used to foreign pressure against my lips, but it was pleasant. My mouth smiled against his, and I sighed. _This_ is what it should be like. To be always like this. With him.

He pulled away first. "Where would you like to go?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Do I get to choose?" I asked.

"Certainly," he replied, smiling amusedly.

"Los Angeles," I said. "I want to see what I did for ten years. It's slow in coming back, but it's coming. I want…" I trailed off. What did I want?

I wanted to rediscover myself. Not just Piper, not just Tierney, but Piper Tierney Holland. I wanted to reconcile pre and post amnesia. I wanted to start a new life, whole…with Jon. Without the looming doubt and the crippling fear and the explosive anger that dominated my life.

First thought: _used to. It doesn't anymore._

Second thought: _I want to be made new._

Yes, that was it.

"I want to be with you," I said softly, fiddling with my dark hair. "I guess it doesn't matter where I am."

He took my hands in his and said, with complete seriousness, "I want to be with you, too. Although…" his expression took on a mischievous glint. "I think it would be best to get out of Gotham for a while."

I laughed and punched him in the arm lightly, but then grew serious. I would have to walk out of this place past Jack/Joker. Would he let me? Laugh in my face? Try to kill me again? I didn't know. The worry and fear started to crowd in, trying to take over, but this time, _this_ time, I fought back. I would not be afraid of mortal men. What could they do to me? Only kill the body. But I wasn't a body. I was a soul. I _had_ a body. So why fear them?

There was no reason at all, really. And that's what it was about. Reason. _Think, Piper,_ I told myself.

Reason could mean two things: either the process of the mind to think logically, or a cause, explanation, or justification for an event or action. I had discovered both.

"Can we go now?" I asked Jon abruptly. "I mean, could we? Just walk right out the door and not come back?"

"I think so," he said, considering. "Just grab some things from our rooms, walk down the road, and hitch hike away from Gotham? Is that what you want?"

"Yes," I said. "Yes."

"I think we can manage that, Tierney," he said, his blue eyes sparkling. "Do you need a bag?"

"Probably," I said, a little taken aback. I hadn't expected that to work.

"Here," he said, rummaging in a drawer and tossing me a bag. "How about that?"

I caught it and looked it over. It looked big enough. But it was a black duffel bag, and it reminded me of the bank robbery. "What about Scarecrow?" I asked, my tone clipped.

"What about him?" Jonathan asked, turning to me.

"Where does he fit into all this?" I asked, swallowing. I would not be crippled by fear anymore! I was not afraid of an alter ego. I would not be afraid! "What does he think?" The questions kept coming. "What happens with us being together and him? Is that going to be an obstacle?"

He considered this, his blue eyes deep in thought. "I don't want to be Scarecrow with you. You help me stay sane and keep him at bay. I suppose…I don't know, really," he said, thumping a book with his hand. "If you don't want to take that risk I understand, but–"

"No!" I exclaimed. "No. I want _you_ –all of you. Even Scarecrow." I realized then that my hands were tightly clenched into fists. I let them fall open and reached for him.

He pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face in my hair. "Truly?"

"Yeah," I said, breathing in his scent, hearing the rhythmic noise echoing from his chest that signaled life. "Cross my heart," I whispered.

He sighed, and I realized something. Jonathan Crane is afraid of something. He is afraid of losing me. And the well within my soul bubbled up again with love. Somehow, the master of fear being afraid of something made him human. It made him lovable. It made him mine.

I reluctantly pulled back, urgency moving me forward again. "We should probably pack."

He smiled at me. "Practical Tierney," he said. "Of course."

* * *

I walked down the stairs with a purposeful air, holding the duffel in my hand. Inwardly I quaked, but I wasn't going to run. Not this time. Jon followed close behind me. He had tried to talk me out of it, but I needed to do this. I needed to resolve this conflict in my life, somehow. Of course, then he had tried to talk me into letting _him_ deal with the Joker. How, I wasn't sure. Spray him with fear gas? Fight him? The idea made me smile, like a knight fighting for his lady's honor in olden days. But this was 21st century Gotham, and the only knight around was Batman, and darn it, I had left my bat signal in my other pants. So I told him no. I needed to do this, and I needed to do it my way. It used to be that my way was to lash out in anger with fists and anything else that would do damage, but in a fight with the Joker, my life expectancy was probably about five seconds. Not the best idea. On to plan B.

Everyone's eyes were on me. Edward and Jervis were merely curious and careful to stay out of the line of fire. Harley was concerned; her eyes kept flickering between J and me. I decided to use her nickname for him, because he wasn't _jus_t Jack or _just_ Joker anymore.

I went to Harley first and gave her a hug. I hadn't liked her at first; she had been stiff and annoying, but once I got to know her, she had been…nice. And I wasn't stupid enough to deny that J didn't have something to do with that. I didn't understand how she could love him or stand him. But she was good and brave, and I applauded her for it. "I'm going to miss you," I told her. "Thanks. For everything." She sniffed, big tears welling up in her blue eyes. And I didn't like to see anybody cry, so I moved on to Jervis and Edward.

"Why is a woman in love like a welder?" Edward asked me, before I could say anything.

I laughed before I even heard the punch line. Was it that obvious? Probably. "I don't know," I said, smiling. "Why?"

"They both carry a torch," he explained.

I hugged him from the side. "I'm going to miss your riddles," I told him. "You were nice to me, the first person to do so. Thanks."

He smiled. "I have hands that wave at you, though I never say good-bye. It's cool for me to be with you, especially when I say 'hi.' What am I?"

I shook my head at him. "I have no idea."

"An electric fan."

I chuckled and hugged him again before moving on to Jervis. "Goodbye my friend," I told him gently.

"Are you leaving, Alice?" he questioned, his eyes hazy.

"Yes," I said. "You see, I'm late for a very important date. But I did take the time to say goodbye," I added.

His eyes focused and he smiled, reassured by the _Wonderland_ quote. "Have a very merry unbirthday, Alice."

"I will," I said, and hugged him from the side as well.

It was time to face the clown.

I turned toward him, my face hard and taught. I took a step, and then another step, moving ever closer to him. The scars smiled, but his mouth did not. His eyes burned into mine, but I kept moving until we were only a foot apart. "You've had your laugh," I said. "We've reached the punch line now. The joke is over."

"I can always tell it again," he said, in a low, even voice. It wasn't crazy, or insane. It was Jack's voice.

I nodded, acknowledging this, even though I wanted to sock him in the mouth, kick him, something. "You could. But an over-told joke just _isn't funny_ anymore."

I clenched my teeth. "You took my _life,_" I hissed in his face. "My memories, my identity, my sanity…" I trailed off. "But you wanna know the _funny_ side?" I asked, throwing his words back at him. I reached out, and I felt Jon's hand grasp mine. Taking courage from the warmth flowing through it, I took a deep breath and said the words that had been building up inside me for a long, long time. "I'm taking it _back._" I kept up my eye contact for a few seconds more, and then I turned away. Without saying a word, I walked out that door, holding hands with the man I loved.

The sky was blue, rare for Gotham. Few clouds were in the air, and they were white and fluffy, not gray and dark. The sun shone brightly from its place in the heavens, a promise of new beginnings, new hope, a new future. Jon looked down at me and smiled, that's all, but I could feel all of the love in his gaze. And I returned it tenfold. Our feet crunched the gravel as we walked down the drive, out of Gotham, not looking back.

_"For I know the plans I have for you,"__  
declares the LORD,__  
"Plans to prosper you and not to harm you,  
plans to give you hope and a future."  
_Jeremiah 29:11

* * *

**JJ-Jefferu: Of course you can dream because "a dream is a wish your heart makes..." Cinderella moment there :) 3 Disney movies. Thanks so much! I just love them! :)  
**

**Riddle: isn't it just hilarious that spelunking (however it's spelled) sounds just like what happens when you drop a stone into water? 'spelunk' lol. I don't remember where I got it from, I think a book. But I have read the novelization of Hook, so it might have been that. Can't remember, really :)  
**

**JessicaMarieLynnHale: so glad you think so! :)  
**

**Miss Mercury101: Yep! I explained all that in flashbacks in chapter 10 I think. It might not have been quite clear, let me know. Thanks! :)  
**

**CrossmoonChic7459: thanks so much for your review! :)  
**

**Thanks so much to SusyQ, Jejune Nightshade, SafetyPinStitches,** **for your alerts and favorites! **

**I've loved writing this story; thank you all so much for your encouragement and reviews, and for your forgiveness when I didn't post in forever. **

**I'm gonna miss y'all! You're awesome! Love y'all. ~ My Beautiful Ending out :)  
**


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